


Let You Torture Me So Sweetly

by WhatEvenAmI



Series: No-Shame November [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Covert Sex, Diapers, Dom Sam Wilson, Dom Steve Rogers, Embarrassment, Fuck Anish Kapoor, Grinding, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Omorashi, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Sub Bucky Barnes, Teasing, Tony Stark Destroyed The Bean, Wetting, shameboners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-05-09 04:36:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14709207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatEvenAmI/pseuds/WhatEvenAmI
Summary: Bucky can be a brat of a sub, and loves to tease Steve in public.Steve decides he needs a good bit of semi-public discipline.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lauralot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauralot/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Find My Sweet Release](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8459554) by [Lauralot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauralot/pseuds/Lauralot). 



> Y'all trash babies can thank Lauralot for requesting this! (And, as always, thank you, Lauralot, for sharing my dumpster.)

“So if I were an Avenger,” Bucky asks, propping his chin on his hand, “Would I become a cool meme?”

“You’d become a lot of memes. Most of which you wouldn’t want to look at unless you’re a fan of dark humor.” Natasha takes a sip of her drink and Bucky mirrors her, glancing over to where Steve’s sitting as he slurps. This little game again. Because Bucky is a brat.

He’d been talking for a while, about what he’d like to do when he becomes a little more stable. They’ve had a lot of discussions about what he feels he owes weighed against what he wants for his life, and against what’s best for his health.

Steve’s not entirely opposed to it, and he’s trying to stay out of it. It’s true that Bucky’s come a long way from where he was before. He’s still not over the habit of beating himself up for being broken, and Steve’s worried he might push himself beyond his limits in ways that he can’t talk about with the team without revealing some _really_ personal aspects of Bucky’s trauma.

And every time he talks about it privately with Bucky, he just manages to make Bucky feel more sensitive about it, unsure of himself and his worth. The last thing Steve wants to do is tear that down.

At least they’re just talking about team sparring practices and possible repercussions PR-wise, not making definite plans just yet.

“You keep up on all your memes, though, don’t you, Nat?”

“Matter of necessity, ever since Insight. I try to keep up on what aspects of the data-dump people are focusing on from week to week, just because it’s made me a more public figure.” Natasha is visibly annoyed; being a public figure is not compatible with her line of work. "Though I think that one of the signature thigh-choke distracted everyone for a bit. God, maintaining a public image sucks. And I fucking hate men on the Internet. But I can appreciate a good bit of dark humor, so that’s something. I can tell you that if you come out publicly with everything that happened to you, the public will not leave the more grisly details unmentioned in the interest of tact.”

“Happens with everyone,” Clint chimes in. “There’s always someone who’s willing to make a running joke out of your personal baggage if they hate you enough.”

Another slurping noise captures Steve’s attention and he tries not to look at Bucky sucking down half his vodka lemonade. Damn his Pavlovian response to Bucky drinking, and damn Bucky for taking advantage of it. He _likes_ being brought to desperation, dominated, so why does he have to get revenge for it by giving Steve unexplainable boners in front of his team?

“I figured,” Bucky says, shifting subtly in his seat and glancing at Steve again. “If they get one snapshot of me doing something cool, I’ll be satisfied.” He presses his thighs together as if he was starting to get a bit desperate, and Steve’s own thighs twitch in response, warmth surging between his legs. It’s only through a great deal of effort that he keeps his face neutral. Sam, on his left, catches his eye and smirks, and Steve flushes ever so slightly. Sam and Bucky are always making fun of him for how hard he gets at the slightest hint of Bucky coming undone. Even when it’s just acting and Bucky’s being a little shit.

Just then, Steve gets an idea. Well, he gets the idea from Bucky fidgeting subtly in his seat, and he thinks _bet he wouldn’t be so cocky if he really was aching to go in front of the whole team._ Just the thought of Bucky trying so hard not to lose control, about to wet his diaper in front of his whole team and hoping none of them _know,_ gets Steve fully erect in his jeans so quickly it’s shameful. He tries to have a little sympathy for Bucky, but he’s not really thinking with the head on his shoulders and just then Bucky runs his foot lightly up Steve’s calf and makes him jump and bite back a thoroughly undignified noise. Fuck sympathy, his bratty little sub is just _begging_ for some discipline.

He reaches over, careful not to show the situation he’s got going on under the table, and slowly refills Bucky’s glass of lemonade. Bucky looks over, questioning, and then he glances over at the others and the wide-eyed look on his face says it all. He knows he’s in trouble and he’s gotten a little scared, wondering how he can get himself out of this and if he really _wants_ to get out of it at all. It’s fucking beautiful and Steve fights back a moan.

He gives Bucky his “that’s an order” face that he’s perfected for subtle domination in public, indicating the glass with a jerk of his head. Bucky slowly, shakily reaches out to take it, and brings it to his lips. Steve catches Sam’s eye, this time with a smirk of his own, and Sam raises his eyebrows as if to say _really, man? Here?_

But there’s a matching little grin forming on his face, and Bucky ducks into his half-emptied glass, flushed and uncertain. He knows _exactly_ how much trouble he’s in.

For a moment, Steve wavers—what if this really is too much for Bucky?

But he has his safeword. They always remind him that he has it. That he’s safe with them. He indicates the glass with his head again and Bucky takes a shaky breath and lifts it to his lips again. It’s game on.

He has to wait to pour Bucky another glass, to be subtle, but it’ll be better that way, really. It’ll give Bucky time to really squirm in that chair. When he next takes a drink he’ll be desperate enough to know exactly what it’s going to do to him.

“I do a lot of cool things!” Tony’s protesting, “The coolest things, that involve a metal suit with rocket boots and _zero spandex_ , why is nobody filming me while I’m being cool? Why is Chicago _my_ biggest meme?” He glares at Natasha as if it’s her fault that all the current memes of her look badass and thigh-choking villains while everyone’s still hung up on his rocket-powered face-plant into that giant bean sculpture. Being Tony Stark, he easily paid for a replacement piece where the bean-thing used to stand, and it actually gained him more popularity than anything, as there was widespread hatred against the sculptor. But nothing could make the internet forget the image of Iron Man face-planted into the side of the Bean with his head stuck in it and his metal-clad ass sticking up. It may or may not be the current lock screen on Steve’s phone.

“You can think of it this way, you got what you’ve always wanted; the whole world checking out your ass,” says Rhodey, who is very likely responsible for the existence of that snapshot in the first place.

Steve opens his mouth to answer, but notices that Bucky’s become ghostly pale and still in his seat. How many drinks did he have before he downed those lemonades? Steve isn’t sure, but he can see that Bucky’s looking tense, his whole body rigid like he’s trying not to squirm. Steve realizes he can get Bucky where he wants him with fewer drinks than usual, because if he wriggles or crosses his legs to hold on better, he gives his desperation away.

But he’s not a complete monster. “Hey, Buck, you wanna come sit with me for a bit?” He asks. The gentleness in his voice isn’t entirely feigned; he’s just a little bit concerned over the fear in Bucky’s eyes, and he wants to hold him and provide warmth and comfort while Bucky loses control in front of everyone. Mostly, though, he’s thinking of hiding his own erection and pressing subtly on Bucky’s abdomen. Bucky sees what he’s doing and flushes, shooting him a glare; all attention is now on him, everyone eyeing him with concern. They’re used to his panic attacks and freakouts, and not making a big deal over any of them. They’ll just assume that talking about going public is still a little much for him.

It seems Bucky can’t resist the proffered comfort, grudging as he is. He scoots out of his chair and flops himself sullenly into Steve’s lap, head leaning back on his shoulder. Steve strokes his hair, and Bucky leans into the touch.

The others carefully avoid staring. They’re accustomed to this by now, the periods when Bucky is needy and clingy and dependent on Steve or Sam for reassurance, when he just needs to be told what to do because he can’t function on his own. They understand, and Bucky knows that, but it still makes him flush and hide his face against Steve’s chest.

It’s too damn cute. Steve just loves it. He wishes he could hold his needy little sub like this forever. He presses a kiss to Bucky’s hair, and Sam reaches over to give Bucky’s thigh a reassuring squeeze. He also gropes Bucky’s crotch under the table and, barely perceptibly, Bucky whines. Steve rubs his hand over his stomach, feeling the muscles twitch under his palm. It goes straight to his dick, and he muffles a moan by pressing his mouth into Bucky’s hair.

“Pervert,” Bucky breathes in his ear. “Fucking sadist-” he breaks off, trying not to squirm.

Steve squeezes him tighter to help him hold still. “If you really want out,” he murmurs against Bucky’s hair, “You know your safeword.”

A moment goes by. Bucky ducks his head and squirms against Steve’s lap, but doesn’t say anything.

“That’s what I thought,” Steve whispers, trying to keep his voice steady even with Bucky rubbing frantically against the erection in his lap. “You know what you need. You’ve been playing naughty games and this is where it got you.” Bucky’s blush deepens to crimson, face hidden behind his hair. “But even when you’re being a brat,” he continues quietly in Bucky’s ear, “I’m always here to take care of you. You know I’ll give you anything you need.”

With that, he squeezes his arms around Bucky’s abdomen in what hopefully looks like a tight, grounding hug. Bucky hisses through his teeth and squeezes his legs together, but Steve is merciless and Bucky can’t squirm or moan or hold himself or they’ll know. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll have to let go.

_“Please,”_ he can hear Bucky breathe against his cheek, begging for release or for mercy or for nothing in particular. _“Please!”_

Everyone’s frowning in deep concern now. All attention is on them. Soon Bucky might actually pass out from embarrassment and fear. It’s time to end this little game.

With a light kiss to Bucky’s ear, Steve squeezes tighter.

He can sense the precise moment when Bucky loses control, even before he feels the warmth spreading through his diaper against his lap. He goes rigid, teeth clenching down against an audible whine that brings every Avenger’s gaze to them. Sam eyes them calmly, reaching his hand out to hold Bucky’s and pressing both their hands into Bucky’s crotch under the table so they can both feel the warmth squishing between his legs. The heat against his own crotch and Bucky’s deep blush push Steve over the edge and he comes, face pressed firmly against Bucky’s head, grinding himself into the softness of Bucky’s padded ass. He’s gives into it and lets it happen, hoping it won’t show through his pants.

Bucky can’t smirk or snark like he usually could. He can only cling and hide and keep wetting helplessly, hot against Steve’s lap.

“Is he okay?” Rhodey asks softly after a minute. Bucky’s completely rigid and doesn’t answer, and Steve takes pity.

“He’ll be all right. I think we should step outside for a moment…” Steve gingerly eases Bucky up out of the chair, checking hastily to make sure his swollen padding isn’t showing through his jeans. Bucky keeps his head down, hair in front of his face. Steve gestures for Sam to join them and together they guide Bucky away from the table and into the hall. Still oversensitive between his legs, he walks a little gingerly.

When they get out into the hall Bucky raises his head, puppy-eyed and beginning to tear up, and they quickly move to hold him and rub his back and pat his diapered ass.

“What if. Someone saw.” he whispers hoarsely, hands trembling as he tries to cling to every part of Steve and Sam all at once.

“No one saw,” Sam soothes. “No one saw, that’s what the diapers are for. Good thing you have ‘em, huh, sweetheart? And two doms who take good care of you when you just can’t keep ‘em dry? It’s a good thing you have us.”

Bucky squeaks indignantly, trying to speak; Sam loves teasing, and watching Bucky get all red and flustered. Bucky sniffles and rests his head on Steve’s shoulder. He always gets so shaky after they make him wet himself like that; he’ll need lots of loving aftercare when this is all over.

“It is a good thing,” Steve picks up where Sam left off. “Our poor guy must have really had to go, huh? Had an accident in front of all his friends. But we’ll never tell. Don’t worry, honey. It’s our little secret, okay?”

Steve can see Bucky getting hard through his diaper now; being teased and made to lose control always does that to him. That’s why he won’t safeword out; he loves it and needs it just as much as he needs the comfort and reassurance that comes after. Someone safe to take him apart and let him be broken and needy and all the more loved for it.

“You’ve been so good for us, Bucky. Our good boy. It’s okay that you peed your pants,” Steve says, eliciting a whine of utmost embarrassment. Bucky’s fully hard now, writhing and squirming in Steve’s hold. “You can come for us now, if you’re ready. Sam, you wanna give him a hand?”

“I think he’s just about ready to come without me touching, look at him, he’s a wreck,” Sam marvels. “I think he really liked that. That turn you on, baby boy? Right in front of all our friends?” Bucky gasps and shudders, hips jerking as he tries to find something to grind against. Steve catches his hands and holds them, curious to see if Bucky really will come untouched. “Playing a dangerous little game there, thinking about what would happen if anyone noticed?”

Bucky sobs aloud and represses it, jerking his hips again. “You’re...a...sadist,” he moans, even as he tries to find enough friction in his diaper to help him come. Steve holds his body steady as he gasps and shudders.

“Just like you, being a tease and getting me hard in front of everyone,” Steve says roughly in his ear, “You like the risk, don’t you? You like it right under everyone’s nose.”

“Do you? You like when we make you let go like that?” Sam whispers throatily, and Bucky groans and tenses as he comes. Steve releases Bucky’s hands and palms Bucky over the diaper, trying to intensify the feelings and give Bucky what he’s been craving. Bucky jerks into his hand and rides out the orgasm. Sam’s got a situation going on in his pants now, himself—he's no supersoldier, and he’s constantly making fun of the two of them for how fast they get hard and shoot off (and how easily exploitable that is in situations like this) but Steve knows he can’t ignore the sight of a flushed, writhing Bucky, tearing up and begging and clinging. He’s so perfect and beautiful. Who could?

“I think we better get to the bathroom,” Steve says softly, stroking Bucky’s shoulders. He needs lots of comfort now, needs to be held and brought back to stability with soft kisses and sweet words in his ear. And, of course, gentle hands to change his soggy diaper. “This guy’s gotta have quite a mess in his pants. And someone needs to get Sam off before we go back out there.”

Bucky buries his face in Steve’s shoulder as they support him between them and guide him off down the hall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A second request from Lauralot, the previous chapter from Bucky's perspective!

He's going to be an Avenger.

Steve keeps saying  _maybe_ and  _we'll have to work through a lot_ and otherwise being really annoying, worrying that Bucky's not ready to go out in the field. And all right, he's still got a whole lot of issues and he's a crazy neurotic fuck, but he's doing  _better,_ ever since Steve and Sam started giving him orders and taking care of him. He's not dysfunctional and pathetic anymore, and so what if he needed a whole lot of bossing around in bed (okay, and in every other aspect of his life) to get there? He's going to revenge himself on the motherfuckers who put him in this position in the first place, and do a whole lot of awesome world-defending besides.

His shrink keeps saying that what he did wasn't his fault and he doesn't  _have_ to run around doing heroic shit to make up for it because the things HYDRA made him do is on them and not him, but he's pretty sure he'll sleep easier at night knowing he's working to counter all that horrific shit he watches his hands do every time he goes to sleep. 

Not that it can ever be undone. But the stain can be made less, and his impact on the world can be more good than bad. It'll take a lot, a whole lot of good, lots of shielding civilians and pulling innocents out of fallen rubble and helping little old ladies across the street. But his shrink keeps saying to have faith in himself.

And there's Steve looking at him all worried and disapproving and so  _annoyingly_ good and concerned and "I'm-not-going-to-bring-up-your-issues-in-front-of-our-teammmates-but-let's-not-forget-you-have-many" (as if he ever could. He's wearing a diaper right now, as he always does when he visits the tower, just in case. It won't help his case for his competence and badassery if he has a bad moment and pisses his pants in front of the Avengers.) Bucky meets Steve's gaze, expressionless, and slurps his drink pointedly.  _Let's not forget we both have some highly exploitable weaknesses, pal._

Actually. It was kinda fun to do this to Steve the first time they visited the tower together, and sometimes it's nice to watch him be all flustered and embarrassed for a change. He loves when Steve and Sam makes him lose control, he really does, but it's nice to have the option to push back a little and know he won't be tortured for it. Sometimes when he does it Steve tells him he's a brat, but always with affection. 

He kind of feels like he's in a bratty mood now. And here they are with Steve unable to comment on it. And, oh, what's this, a 50% chance of unexpected public boners?

He asks Nat about memes and they get to talking about public image, but the whole time he's just waiting for the right moment to take another long, exaggerated drink of his vodka lemonade. When he does, Steve tries to be subtle about his glaring, which totally means he's feeling the effects. Bucky shifts in his chair, barely perceptibly, and shoots a little sidelong glance at Sam, who, come to think of it, has never seen the performance of the Public Shameboner. Sam looks at him, slurping, and then at the glaring Steve, and Bucky can see him trying not to smirk. Bucky slowly runs his foot up Steve's calf under the table, because it drove him so crazy last time, and feels a touch of inner smugness at the look on Steve's face.

But then Steve's reaching for the lemonade pitcher and filling not his own glass, but Bucky's.

 _Oh._ Oh, no. They can't, not here.

But Steve's pushing the glass toward him with the same look on his face that he gets when he's ordering Bucky to take another drink or drop to his knees, only twice as stern. He's being  _punished,_ and the idea of Steve retaking control and putting his bratty ass back in line sends a thrill of fear and delight through him all at once.

But he's very, very aware of his friends and teammates sitting all around him, and even though no one looks at him twice as he slowly raises the glass to his lips, he can't help but feel as though everyone's eyes are on him.

He meets Steve's gaze before he starts to drink and can almost  _hear_ his voice in his head.  _Drink it. All of it._ And though his instincts are to push back, to silently refuse, the part of him that needs control is already swallowing down the drink. As the icy cold hits his stomach he becomes aware of the drinks he had before this one and he can feel the chill spreading through his body. But Steve's eyes are on him, unwavering, and he keeps drinking despite his fear. Steve is his dom, and Bucky belongs to him, and Steve tells him what to do and takes care of him and makes him all right when he's scared.

He's scared now, wondering if he can get himself out of this. He could just excuse himself to go to the bathroom. Steve's gaze, however, is pinning him to his seat, and Bucky has a feeling he won't be let up. And if he does get up, what happens when they get home?

And even in his cold fear of humiliation, punishment, being seen through and through for the wreck that he is, he feels his traitorous dick twitch at the thought of being held up in front of all his friends and made to show how little control he really has. How he needs to be kept down on his knees and ordered around. How much he craves to belong to someone and be good and be put in his place. His face heats with humiliation at the thought, and he drains the rest of his glass to hide his blush and cool him.

He looks over to Sam, wondering if his other dom will swoop in to save him, say he's been taught his lesson and let him go. But Sam's face is cool and collected, with just the hint of a smirk on his lips.

Oh, he is in  _so much trouble._

And he's terrified and that means he needs to rely on his doms and they'll help him and bring him through this even though he's been bad, and love him still, after, and—will they? He needs to know. He needs to be loved and brought back up from this and told he's still their good boy. All defiance gone, he sits in his chair and waits with a heavy anxiety for Steve to refill his glass.

Steve takes his sweet time doing it, so that the others don't know. They're all talking and laughing about some dumb stunt of Tony's that blew up online. Are they even noticing how quiet he's gone?

Natasha is eyeing him with mild concern, and he avoids her gaze, but everyone else seems oblivious. Rhodey's saying that the whole world is currently checking out Tony's ass, and isn't that pretty much all Tony ever wanted?

"Um, excuse me, no. My tits are up here," Tony says primly, and Clint snorts. All the cold weight in Bucky's belly is settling lower and lower, and he can feel the urge to go building in his bladder. Steve is merciless; he holds Bucky in the chair with another stern glance. Is he going to let Bucky get really desperate? Make him squirm and plead and moan in front of everyone?

Then they'll  _know,_ they'll know to exactly what degree he needs to be controlled. Bucky's breath catches in his throat, and Steve takes that moment to refill his glass. Bucky's hand reaches out against his will to pick it up. Steve can see that his hand is trembling, and so can everyone else, and  _now_ they're really looking.

"Hey, Buck, you wanna come sit with me for a bit?" The gentleness in his voice is a soft blanket Bucky wants to sink right into, even if he is a perverted sadistic bastard and the others have no idea of the real reason Steve wants Bucky in his lap. But that soft voice means he really is still loved, and he can be good, even though  _fuck you Rogers so much for them thinking I'm recovered enough and not too pathetic to be on their team._ Bucky wants to glare at him forever, but his eyes are soft and gentle rather than stern now and Bucky can't help flushing and moving out of his own seat and into the warmth of Steve's arms.

Steve, the pervert, is pretty hard already against Bucky's ass, but Bucky can't be smug about it now, flushing and avoiding the concerned glances from his teammates. He rests his head back on Steve's shoulder and Steve strokes his hair, ever the concerned boyfriend, boner strategically hidden in Bucky's diapered behind.

Sam's hand is on this leg, too, giving a reassuring squeeze and then stroking up his thigh to give his crotch a squeeze as well. Bucky barely keeps from jumping. He really does have to go now, and they're going to do it, take him apart in front of everyone. A small whine escapes him and he prays no one heard. Steve moans a little into the back of his hair, enjoying this all too much, the bastard. He's fully hard now, erection poking into Bucky's ass, and he pulls Bucky in a little to grind into him. Bucky squirms, really needing to hold it now. "Pervert," he gasps lowly, "Fucking sadist—"

But all that gets him is another tight squeeze, right on his abdomen this time, pushing him close to losing it. "If you really want out," comes a low murmur in his ear, "You know your safeword."

He could. He could get out. But Steve's got him and Sam's got him, too, by the thigh again, and Bucky would be hard if he wasn't so scared because as much as this little power play terrifies him it gives him a deep thrill, too. Taken apart and put together, right in front of all their friends. They're all determinedly not looking, thinking that this is just another of his panic attacks, but if they really looked closely they would  _see._ Bucky flushes, and opens his mouth a little. But he doesn't say his safeword.

"That's what I thought," Steve murmurs, and Bucky loves him, and hates him, and needs him, and falls into his voice, falls apart in his hands. "You know what you need," Steve continues, and yes, Bucky needs it, he needs this, to be held down and put in his place, and he squirms over Steve's boner, trying in vain to hold on, terrified of the inevitable. "You've been playing naughty games and this is where it got you."

The words are like a hand pumping between his legs, pure sex tugging low in his belly and making him gasp. He flushes so deep and his head jerks to the side, trying to hide in Steve. Everyone's looking now, watching him flushed and hiding and pathetic, and at any moment they could find out why. They're curious, they're concerned, and Bucky can hardly breathe.

"But even when you're being a brat," Steve continues in his ear, "I'm always here to take care of you. You know I'll give you anything you need." And he's squeezing tighter and tighter around Bucky's abdomen, holding him down so he couldn't escape now if he wanted to, and yes, he's got him, he'll give him what he needs, discipline him and hold him when he's in pieces and love him after, he can trust Steve, Steve won't let anyone know. He won't. 

The squeezing grows slowly ever tighter and Bucky could hold it but he'd squirm and moan and give away exactly what he needs to do. As he holds himself deliberately still, a trickle of warmth escapes him. "Please," he gasps, " _please!"_

_Steve, Steve, I'm so scared I need to let go I'm going to lose it all in front of all of them Steve what do I do_

And Steve answers without words, squeezing down so tightly that Bucky's bladder gives up the fight, a light kiss brushed against his ear as he does so. There's heat between his legs and everyone's  _looking_ and he can't, can't  _move,_ but Steve's got him, Steve's always got him. But everyone's looking as the warmth floods against his thighs and down his ass and he  _whines_ and he didn't  _mean_ to and they  _definitely_ all heard  _that,_ what if they know, they're all  _staring_ at him with such concern and watching him while he loses it all and floods himself against Steve's lap.

But Steve's got him. They don't know. They don't. His diaper's growing soggy beneath him and Sam's hand is between his legs, Bucky so, so red-faced, hiding behind his hair to know that Sam is checking discreetly for the warmth of the padding against his groin, where the wet's still flooding out, and now it's both their hands down there, pressing in. Sam knows. Steve knows. 

But no one else knows why he's fallen apart. They saw it happen, but they don't know why, and Sam's hand is still on him, Steve's arms still around him, Steve shuddering against him and holding him tight and wriggling into his wet, soggy ass in a way that makes Bucky suspect he's not the only one losing control of something, and for some reason that makes him blush still harder. His body's still going, Steve still pressing his arms in close, ensuring that he couldn't think of stopping, but the flood's starting to peter out, leaving him worn-out and shaking, the blush fading away to terror and cold. He's glad his dom's holding him. That Steve's going to steer him out of this. 

"Is he all right?" Rhodey finally asks, from somewhere that seems simultaneously a million miles away and far too close. They're used to making no big deal out of Bucky's panic attacks and spells of neediness, knowing by now that it embarrasses him when anyone calls attention to it, but he guesses they can't pretend not to notice that he's gone completely rigid in terror and is determinedly hiding his face.

Can he pass out from blushing too hard?

"He'll be all right," Steve answers, stroking his arm reassuringly, "I think we should step outside for a moment..."

There comes a terrifying few seconds as Steve is easing him out of their seat when Bucky's convinced that he must have leaked, that his warm, heavy diaper must be visibly swollen, that somehow they can all see, that they know. He can't look up. He can't look.

Sam's there, too, helping to guide him out to the hall. They've got him. They do, and when he chokes out his fears they hush him and reassure him that no one saw, no one knows, and they're patting his wet ass and he can't get enough of them, trying to hold them close to him without knowing where to grab onto first. 

He's also, now that his more pressing need is relieved, incredibly hard in his diaper, made all the harder my their teasing about how he can't keep dry and it's a good thing he has his doms to take care of him and change him. His damn traitorous body, loving that all too much, just like his perverted sadistic doms. He tries to open his mouth, but all that comes out is a squeak, which makes them smirk at him and  _oh,_ it goes strait to his groin when they do.

"Our poor guy must have really had to go, huh," Steve teases, like that wasn't his own doing. "Had an accident in front of all his friends." Bucky's breath catches and his face is so red and his pee is cooling between his legs and he really did, he really did have an accident in front of everyone. "But we'll never tell. Don't worry, honey, it's our little secret, okay?"

It is their secret. They won't tell. They love him and they've got him, even when he's broken and when he's been a brat and he's wet and pathetic and needy, and they need him too and they're here, he's hard against his wet padding, hips jerking into it, waiting for them to get him off, they'll do it, always taking such good care of them. All he can do is look at them breathlessly, openmouthed with gratitude and humiliation and love.

"You've been so good for us, Bucky. Our good boy. It's okay that you peed your pants," Steve says so earnestly, only a hint of a smirk around his lips, and Bucky can't help the embarrassing whine that escapes him. "You can come for us now, if you're ready. Sam, you wanna give him a hand?"

"I think he's just about ready to come without me touching, look at him, he's a wreck," Sam really is smirking, and it's true, he really is, and a needy wreck at that, watching them breathlessly, waiting. “I think he really liked that. That turn you on, baby boy? Right in front of all our friends?” Bucky gasps with humiliation and shudders with the need to come pooling in his belly, hips jerking as he tries to find something to grind against. Steve catches his hands as he goes to touch himself, holding them tight so he'll have to come untouched. “Playing a dangerous little game there, thinking about what would happen if anyone noticed?”

A sob comes over him as he thinks of it, feeling again everybody's eyes on him. His hips jerk again as the sensation in his gut takes over him. "You're...a...sadist," he moans, hands tugging helplessly in Steve's grasp, even as he shudders on the edge of his orgasm. 

“Just like you, being a tease and getting me hard in front of everyone,” Steve says roughly in his ear, “You like the risk, don’t you? You like it right under everyone’s nose.”

“Do you? You like when we make you let go like that?” Sam whispers throatily, and Bucky groans and tenses as his body finally gives in to it all, and he's spilling hot and sticky into the mess in his diaper, gasping. Steve releases Bucky’s hands grope the front of his diaper, and Bucky hungrily  jerks into his hand and rides out the orgasm to the end, grinding against Steve and clinging onto any inch of his doms he can reach and finally leaning, entirely spent, against the two of them, taking in the comfort and reassurance of their heartbeats.

“I think we better get to the bathroom,” Steve says softly, hand stroking over Bucky’s shoulders, thumb rubbing softly against the nape of his neck. “This guy’s gotta have quite a mess in his pants. And someone needs to get Sam off before we go back out there.”

Bucky buries his face in Steve’s shoulder and lets himself whimper a little. No one's there but them. He can let himself be needy and supported as they guide him to the nearest bathroom. Sam holds him, kissing him gently and easing his pants off, and Bucky whimpers to see the mess in his diaper as Steve eases it down his legs and guides him to step out of it. But Steve's hands are wonderful and gently as always, wiping him clean and giving him a light smack on his bare ass cheek. The messy diaper's disappeared and his feet are guided into a soft clean one, his pants are being pulled up so his secret's safe and hidden once more. They've always got him. They always take such good care of him. They stroke him and love him and take him gently but firmly by the hips and guide him to his knees.

Gratefully, lovingly, he goes down. Soft and pliable and safe, he reaches out to take down Sam's pants and free his own erection. All defiance gone, only space for calm and love in his head, he opens his mouth reverently to take Sam in.


End file.
